


Kylan Can't Write

by personalphilosophie



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, hopefully this is in character, love letter shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22193824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/personalphilosophie/pseuds/personalphilosophie
Summary: There are some things in life that are meant to be PRIVATE. When one of these private things gets into the hands of the worst possible person, Kylan says the first thing he thinks of to save himself.
Relationships: Brea/Kylan (Dark Crystal)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Kylan Can't Write

Alone in his tent, Kylan the Songteller sat alone at a table. His pen scratched mercilessly at the paper, drawing up emotion the way a bucket draws water from the well. 

_ Brea,  _

_ Thra had no choice but to gift you with the gentle silver beauty of the moons. _

_ For if it had given you the glory of the suns all life would go blind, unable to look away. _

_ Night would cease to hold meaning, for no one would ever tire of your presence. But since you are the moons, your absence makes the longing all the deeper. For when you are gone the poor lost souls below lament that your wisdom is not there to guide them safely home- _

He stopped and sighed. A single drop of ink bled into his parchment, and he frowned. Then he shook his head. The blemish on the page really didn’t matter one bit. Just a few more sentences, and then he’d tear it out and burn it up like all the other odes he’d written. The ink smeared across his hand as he began once again. 

_ For I have no doubt that you could move the tides if you wished it. The stones themselves would shift to be your guardians, if they could. I am not strong, nor very brave, and have nothing to offer a princess  _

“-lan. Kylan?”

_ -except the time that Thra has given me, and the fact that I love y- _

“KYLAN!”

He snapped back into the tent. Brea was standing there in the flesh. Very close to him. 

“Ah, Brea. I didn’t hear you come in,”

“I’ve been calling for you for ages. The meeting’s about to start. Here, I’ll help you carry everything in!” Brea scooped up a pile of maps and reached towards the letter. 

The letter no one was ever supposed to see. 

“Are these your notes for the battle plan?” she picked it up. 

“No!” without thinking, he grabbed it from her hands. “It’s nothing,”

Brea stared at him, clearly confused. The tips of his ears burned deep red.

“It’s nothing… literally nothing. It’s just scribbles. Because I can’t write! Ha ha?” he blurted out. 

Time screeched to a halt. With dawning horror, Kylan realized what he had just said. How stupid. She had  _ seen  _ him write. He had written her notes, shopping lists, annotations on maps and records and ledgers.  _ They had bonded over their favorite books together.  _ He awaited his oncoming destruction. 

“Ohhh! Kylan you really don’t have to be embarrassed at all. I have a journal too! See?”

Brea dropped the maps on the table and began frantically rummaging through her rucksack. When she found the small book, she pulled it out eagerly and thrust it towards Kylan. 

“See? I draw things and write down interesting facts, or questions I have, or just my thoughts and feelings. Oh wait no, you aren’t allowed to see that page, Seladon would kill me if she knew I’d drawn what she looks like before she brushes her hair…” Brea flipped past an illustration that had more in common with a Fizzgig than the All-Maudra. ““But you can see this one, see look! It's a list of all the herbs we've found and where they grow. This is a naturally occurring hybrid of tugroot and peachberry, that when heated to a temperature of...."

Normally he found Brea's tangents both interesting and endearing, however his attention was otherwise engaged. Nearly hidden by one fingertip, there was a tiny little doodle in the margin of Brea's botanical notes. It was a very rudimentary sketch of himself and Brea, with a little heart in between them. Kylan furrowed his brow. 

“What could it possibly mean?” he thought to himself. 

“Brea…” he began, but before he could say anything she snapped the journal shut and scooped up the maps again. 

“Oh Kylan, you’re right. I lose track of time when I get on the subject of weird plants. We’re already late and I’m only making it worse! I hear one of the scouts is giving a report on some new creature the Skeksis are using. It’s called a Garthim. I’ve never heard of it before. Let’s head over together!” Brea smiled at him. 

Kylan relaxed. She was right. There were more pressing things to deal with right then. He picked up the letter and tucked it into his sleeve. Maybe this one wouldn’t be burned after all. Maybe, after the meeting, he’d give it to her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe it took me this long to write about these two fucking nerds. I love them, they're adorable, and I'm on team Kylan and Brea are Kira's parents. Also apologies to anyone who read my other dc fic and is wondering why this got posted instead of chapter three, I GOTTA STRIKE WHILE THE PLOT IRON IS HOT.


End file.
